VIII. Henry Ainsworth

JEHOVAH feedeth me, I shall not lack;

In grassy folds he down doth make me lye,

He gently leads me quiet waters by,

He doth return my soul: for his name sake

In paths of justice leads me quietly.

Yea, though I walk in dale of deadly shade,

Ile fear none ill, for with me thou wilt be;

Thy rod, thy staff, eke they shall comfort me:

Fore me a table thou hast ready made,

In their presence that my distressers be:

Thou makest fat mine head with ointing oil;

My cup abounds. Doubtless good and mercy

Shall all the days of my life follow me:

Also within Jehovah’s house I shall

To length of dayes repose me quietly.